Echos of the Past
by RideWhiteHorse
Summary: What happened before Emmet was a vampire? What about Edward? Rosalie? Alice? Jasper? Carlisle? Esme? These are the moments the Twilight saga didn't cover.
1. As my spine cracked

_A/N- Okay, so this takes place right before Emmett becomes a vampire; he is currently still human._

Emmett's POV:

I walked through the quiet forest disrupting the silence every time I stepped on a dried leaf or twig. I came across a small meadow with flowers sporadically placed across it as if some one had lazily thrown out seeds. I tilted my head towards the ever-darkening sky; hope flooding from my body like the light melting from the forest. I sat on the soft, damp ground as a torrent of despair cascaded into my body. The silence of the forest was deafening. I had left home nearly five hours ago to go for a short walk intending to be home an hour or so later. This was not where I was supposed to be right now. It was not where I wanted to be. I was so hopelessly lost that I probably had a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack then getting out of here. I closed my eyes wallowing in my own misery straining to hear a familiar sound. Someone calling my name or at least a sound of a human voice. The silence was eerie. It was like being in a horror movie where the little girl walks through a dead quiet hallway right before the creature leaps out and grabs her; making the audience scream. There was one huge difference though. This was real. When I would look back on this moment in years to come I would realize that being lost was a silly worry. No, I will remember that I should have been worrying about life then.

My fingers played mindlessly with a piece of grass trying, to no avail, to numb my mind. Hunger fiercely gripped my body making me moan. I bit my lip trying not to think about food. Suddenly a growl ripped apart the silence sending me to my feet. My eyes searched the forest looking for the cause of my fear. An enormous bear lunged toward me from the forest, his eyes wild with starvation. I could feel hunger in his aura. I stepped hastily backwards trying to run, but my feet wouldn't work fast enough. I tripped over a rock and fell backward crashing into a boulder. Blood stained my white shirt. I cried out in agony as the bear's glistening teeth sought my neck. A slammed my eyes shut praying my death would be quick. I felt my spine break as the bear landed heavily on of me. Fireworks of anguish exploded in my head. Blood ran down my face into my throat. As I choked on my own blood I waited for the final blow that would kill me.

Another roar shook the forest for the second time, except this sound was fiercer, more blood curdling. Another bear must have come to fight over my broken carcass. I prayed that it would end. The pain was too much. I heard the clash of contact between the two bodies I refused to look at. A terrible ripping sound filled the air as if one had lost a limb. I must have been right for a cry of pain from one of them sliced through the field. Its cry of pain was soon curtailed by death. Before the other came to kill me everything went dark.

When I regained consciousness I found myself hurtling through the forests at unimaginable speeds. I looked up to see the face of an angel looking down at me with the most caring eyes I had ever seen. Her beauty made my soul ache. Her stunning features momentarily distracted me from the pain pumping through my body. The wave of torture hit me so hard I was out cold for the second time.

_A/N- I know it's short, but I want to know what everyone thinks. Look for the rest of Emmett's story soon! Please tell me what other missing moments you want to read about. _

_Love,_

_Louise_


	2. As my spine cracked Part 2

Emmett's POV (continued)-

The fires of hell licked my skin; my screams pierced the still air. It was all too much to bear. It took all of what was left of my depleted energy to open my latched together eyes. As my eyes slowly slid open another scream tore through my burning throat. The ungodliness of the whole experience was broken by the spell of the angel hovering above me. He eyes were fashioned of honey shining upon her marble face. The charm of her beauty shattered like broken glass as the anguish inside my gave another fierce tug; forcing my eyes together once more.

"How much longer," sang a soprano voice.

"About a day," came a deeper, calmer voice.

I jumped at the sound of another's voice. She must have known to for a hand of ice, smooth as glass, feel upon my own as it quivered where it lay.

The rest was a blur of mind numbing pain, screams of death, and the darkest night I had ever struggled through. Time meant nothing. Time didn't exist. The stabbing torture never ceased; it just rolled on through the ever-present blackness that I had long since given up trying to fight.

I could just give in and die. It would be so easy. So much easier than fighting the unimaginable anguish. The though of her, the angel, kept me fighting for what might be. The thought of dieing was dispelled from my mind every time she called my name. My pain was insignificant as I though of her crying out to me in a voice that told of hardships beyond her years. She cried beside me; she begged and prayed for me to stay with her. I tried to ease her burden, but all that left my burned mouth were shrieks of pain.

My heart struggled to beat; becoming sluggish and unsteady. The pain grew impossibly worse. The harder the fire burned - the closer it got to my heart - the less time I had to live.


	3. To Know the Unknown

"Rain in five, four, three, two, one bingo!" I jumped up and down delighted as the rain began to pour down outside. That was the first sign four years ago when I was eight. My parents brushed it off as a coincidence, just stupid luck they'd say. It wasn't really a big deal. I mean it was just the weather, there was a forecast every morning in the paper. The difference was I was always right, but could only predict the weather a few minutes before it happened. The paper could predict a week in advance, but was usually wrong. No one really cared about me being able to predict the weather a few minutes in advance. They could tell what the weather was going to be like in a few minutes by looking at the sky. I didn't stand out. If only it had stayed that way.

But it didn't and I can't change that now. A year later I got better. I could tell the weather a day before it happened and answer questions before people asked them. It was uncanny. I would just "see" it happen in the back of my head and then it would materialize only seconds later. I became and outcast. For every time I was right I would be wrong twice more. Being wrong alienated me, blurting out answers to questions they never would ask, but worse still was when I was right. People looked at me like I might hurt them. They looked at me as if there was something wrong with me. I hated it.

I learned quickly from my mistakes. That same year my parents my parents moved with me to Chicago, Illinois. Indiana was far behind my parents and us made sure I had everything straight.

"I want no more of this…this…" my father couldn't seem to find a word vile enough to describe his feelings toward my.... gift. Gift was what I called it. Curse was what the preacher had said in the run down Indiana church. The devil was to be banished from the church he had said, verbatim. My parents were disgraced and we moved soon after. Which brought us to Chicago. "Shameful, offensive, obnoxious, criminal…" he had finally found the words he was looking for a continued on his rant. I heard it all before and had returned to tuning him out.

This lecture was repeated many times to me over the year. I tried to stop and usually I remained silent. Sometimes I'd forget or loose sight of reality and believe it was a current memory not one of the future, and something would slip out. I was scorned and even hit sometimes.

My father never truly liked me. I was always a curse for him even before the burden really came. I was not the boy he'd dreamed of, nor was I a boy at all. He wanted someone who could work the fields for him and grow up to marry a beautiful wife. Unfortunately for both of us I was a girl. Unfortunate for him, because he wanted a boy more than anything but could not because he lacked a wife (also my fault). Unfortunate for me because he treated me as though I was a boy and worked me harder than any in the field, although my petite frame lacked the strength.

My mom had been the love of my father's life and was heart broken when she died. He never forgave me for that. If it were up to him I'd be in the middle of the desert right now. If he had the chance he'd get rid of me. My mother, may she rest in peace, died giving birth to me. I'd taken away his love and another chance at having a boy. That was then this is now I suppose.

I looked into the mirror and an eleven-year-old face stared back at me. I picked up a brush and ran it through my long, black hair. I liked the way I look in high heels. I was short for my age and being a few inches taller always gave me confidence.

My dad, William, had finally met another woman, Mary. She was tall, blond, and knew it. She was quite arrogant and rather dull. She hardly ever talked to me and most of the time she ignored me completely. I didn't really mind it was better than being yelled at. When at times it became necessary to speak to me she would sight very loudly as if she was going to a great deal of effort and then would refer to me as "child."

Tonight we were going to celebrate their engagement. Maybe now that he had better things to do than rag on me my life might become a little easier. As much as I detested Mary she certainly knew how to shop. The little time she spent with me was mostly taken up by her talking about the latest dress trend or hairstyle. When she went shopping she dragged me along to tell her how wonderful she looked in certain dresses. I grew to like these trips for I usually got some dresses too.

Mary believed that all little girls must act as proper young ladies. My father had eased up on the amount of fieldwork he made me do. Mary called it "maid's work." The house cleaning I had to do increased instantly. More what she called "ladies work." When they got married I would stop doing fieldwork and do an unnecessary amount of housework. The shopping was fun, but it didn't make up for the housework. At least fieldwork was outside. Our small grimy house was not where I wanted to be stuck.

We would probably move somewhere new when William and Mary were wed. Mary had a lot and I mean a **lot** of old money. This was probably the reason my father put up with her. Her family was extremely wealthy and I she made sure every one knew it too. Her dresses were very expensive (I would know, I spent two hours cleaning one last night) and her jewelry was dripping in diamonds.

"Child get down here or we'll be late!" Speak of the devil I thought solemnly. Suck it up. That was the motto I lived by and if I stuck to it I could stay happy or at the very least sane.

I sighed and looked in the mirror one last time before turning towards the stairs. I dragged my feet as I walked toward the stairs kicking up the dust on the floor. The only floor in the house that could possibly be dirty after all the cleaning I was being forced to do. My room was the only place I was ever alone. When I was here I could lie on my bed and get lost in the future. I could pretend to live another life. I life that I actually knew existed. Like my neighbor who would learn today that his brother was coming to visit or the man across the street who would get a raise next week. Those were the modest, happy lives I wanted to live. Modest? A smile played across my lips. What would Mary think if she knew I wanted to live a _modest _life? Mary wanted a lot of things and she was a lot of things, neither of which were modest.

"Alice!" This time it was my father's angry voice. I scurried quickly down the stairs and crashed head first into my father.

"Sorry," I quickly mumbled, my voice lacking real regret. My father only gave me a meaningful scowl and then turned to my soon-to-be mother.

"Let's go honey, we wouldn't want to be late," he said his voice dripping with sugar. It was sick. He was only after her money. It wasn't like she actually had any personality.

This time Mary scowled at me for almost making us late before she followed my dad out the door. It wasn't like we could be late. We weren't meeting anyone and we didn't have any reservations. Maybe scowling at me was just a hobby for the two of them. Like some inside joke, let's see who can make her life more miserable. _Ha. Ha. How fun._ I forced myself to follow them into the horse drawn carriage remembering my life's motto.

That's when the starlit sky disappeared and I could only feel the soft seat beneath my hand and the cold breath of night upon my neck. The rest was gone. I was looking down at us now. We were sitting in the restaurant as the waiter walked over with the main dishes. He tipped over a chair leg and sent the food flying across the room. Mary got covered in spaghetti sauce and I almost laughed at her look of disgust. I could hear the clippity clop of the horse's feet, but now I could hear screaming too. At first I thought it was Mary being a prima donna until I saw her grasp her side in pain. I saw myself reach for her as she fell out off her chair and twitched on the floor. The screaming chilled my blood. As suddenly as it had come on it stopped. She lay silently on the floor her face still contorted with anguish. The restaurant was crowded around her still body as people screamed for a doctor. My father was hovering over her head crying out her name in dolorous. His eyes were hollow with pain. An instant later his eyes were a roaring blaze of color that now looked knives at me. "YOU!!!" he screamed his voice dripping with the hatred that had been building up for years now.

"Mary?" I asked in horror.

"What child?" her voice spit back at me. I was back in the carriage gasping for breath. My pulse raced and my head spun. That couldn't possibly happen to her…could it?

"Mary!" the realization hit my body in a single shock wave with tremors following soon after. A panic attack surged through my body ungovernably causing me to shake helplessly. I knew I had to control myself. I focused myself on the future. Someone else's future. Pictures flashed before my eyes violently, not even remotely calming me down. My eyes flicked to the side and caught a sign announcing a wedding. I focused quickly on the church spinning ahead into the future until I found the right time. The girls faced beamed as she walked down the aisle way, a vision in white. My breathing smoothed out and my heart began to beat at a near normal pace.

"Dad," I said quickly turning to the one man in this town who knew of what I could do. "Please, please listen to me," I begged shamelessly trying to convey all I could not say through my eyes. "Tonight…"

"Enough!" my dad hissed snake-like through his teeth. His eyes looked daggers at me as he caught on. Not to the fact that his fiancé was going to…die I nearly choked just thinking the word, but he had caught on to the fact that I was about to, or at least he thought I was, tell Mary what I could do. My dad feared discovery more than anything.

"But…" I tried to no avail. The look in his eyes could stop a lion in his tracks. Tears swelled in my eyes as I looked at Mary, not because I deeply cared for her, for I didn't, but because I was the only one who could save her life. I blinked back the tears as best I could before a few easily slipped from my eyes. I couldn't let them think my dad's coldness had led me to tears, for that is what they would all assumed.

The carriage jolted to halt throwing me forward into the wooden coachmen's seat in front of me. The carriage driver turned to me with a look that was a cruel blow to my confidence. I immediately shrunk back throwing my hand before my face as if he might hit me. It was instinct, an instinct I had developed long ago from living with my father. The driver gruffly muttered something that sound like "stupid child."

I stepped out of the carriage momentarily wallowing in the cool breath of night on my neck. The crickets chirping formed a steady hum as I thoughtlessly moved towards the restaurant.

"Darling, go ahead and sit down I'll be just a minute," my father cooed. At first I thought he was talking to me and to be honest I was slightly taken aback by his 'darling' comment. That is until Mary walked briskly into the crowded restaurant.

I felt fingers dig into my arms causing me to whimper in pain. As I did so people began to stare form the sidewalks. "Shut up," the nails burrowed into my skin, "people are staring," the skin broke. "Don't draw attention to yourself," blood began to trickle down my arm. Each command he gave turned his hands into an ever tightening vice. I chewed on my lip to keep the tears at bay.

"Listen now and listen well," his voice opened up the wounds of the past. The nights he'd spent screaming at me, tearing me down. "Mary will not, cannot, and shall not know about your…repulsive…" he could not seem to find a word cruel enough to get his point across. I nodded slowly, his words so merciless they sent a fresh wave a tears cascading from my eyes.

He turned promptly and marched into the restaurant, he turned one last time to make sure I saw the loathing in his eyes before disappearing through the rotating door. He clearly expected I would follow and I did.

The restaurant was covered in chandeliers, icicles of diamonds hanging from them. The waiters were all in neatly pressed black suits caring fresh food on silver platters. The restaurant was a roaring blaze of clinking forks, footsteps, and conversations with little meaning. Out table was in the center of it all. As I took my seat I was able to quickly tune out Mary and my father and drift in and out of the meaningless conversations around me.

William and Mary droned on, actually it was mostly a one-ended conversation. Mary talked while my dad nodded politely; his eyes seemed to be taking a break, all glazed over. Not typical fiancé behavior if you ask me.

I fingered the menu in front of me, not hungry at all. I had nothing to do but wait. I didn't care for Mary, but I didn't want her to die either. Every breath I took felt as if I was gulping up air after a long run. Sweat trickled down my face as I thought of the terror that the night held in its shadows. I wanted to run away from it all. I wanted to here my footsteps thud on the sidewalk in the night's hallow air. The wind whipping my hair as I tried to run from my troubles, but I couldn't run away.

I had tried already, two years ago. I had run away from everything, all my problems seemed to melt away. At ten years old I had nowhere to run to. I couldn't get any food or shelter and finally on a cold raining night I passed out on the sidewalk. I still remember that night as if it where yesterday.

I was looking franticly for a shelter, as I knew rain was on its way. I began to feel the needles of ice dig themselves into my shoulder as my dad had done to my arm earlier. Sorrow gripped my body and my body collapsed helplessly from the pain as I withered on the ground. The world began to spin and I lost my grip of reality as I suffocated in the darkness that consumed me. Later I woke up at home to the screaming of my father.

The picture of that dark alley flashed in my mind, my body quivered involuntarily on the gravel, the shout of drunken men in the distance. Something was off…it wasn't raining? The thought came more as a question then a statement. I was also looking at myself, not remembering from my point of view. I gasped sharply as I zoomed back to reality, the picture of my future made my body ache.

My body passed out in an alley was too much for me, and I quickly excused myself to the restroom. I walked hastily past elegantly dressed couples and children giggling to themselves as adults corrected their childish behavior in an expensive restaurant. As I closed the distance between the restroom and myself I began to hiccup helplessly and trip as I picked up my pace. I was nearly running as I blew through the swinging doors.

My body caved as I slumped against the stall door. Tears consumed my body and as the torment of my vision pumped ruthlessly through my veins echoing in my head. I slammed my eyes shut until I saw spots. My body crumpled soundlessly into a tiny heap on the floor. I lay my head down gently on the cold floor letting the icy feel sooth my steadily growing headache. Time became meaningless until I found my body quieting out of exhaustion.

I collected myself as best I could as I walked to the sink and splashed water on my face trying to alter my agonized appearance. Crying helped nothing. I had learned so long ago and was embarrassed at my breakdown. When I looked presentable again I forced myself to go back to the table.

When I walked out of the misery of the bathroom the joy of others in the dining area overwhelmed me. I almost tripped as it hit me in waves of the cheer I forgot continued even as I lost it. I took my time getting back to the table where my parents obviously hadn't missed me.

I turned my head just in time to see a waiter trip and my breath stopped as my vision played out…

It all happened in slow motion, the waiter fell silently threw the air as heads turned to watch him. He hit the floor with an awful thud. The silver platter spun violently through the air dousing Mary in spaghetti sauce. My mind fogged over and I couldn't think straight. The temperature in the room dropped at least twenty degrees. My body wavered under the fear that clutched my heart and I began to dry heave until my body collapsed in the chair.

The world was a blinding white light before my eyes. My nerves completely demolished me. I couldn't see, but I could hear. The voice screamed in blood curdling anguish for god to save her. It took me a second to realize what was happening, I was no longer waiting alone in the presence of trepidation. Mary was dying. Her body could only be feet from myself. The thought sent another dry heave rocketing through my body. It all began to speed up. Everything happened so fast I couldn't keep up.

"You!" the loathing of my father cry slammed me back to the scene that was playing out before me. My heart jumped and hostility devoured me. "You! Killed! Her!" each of his words was their own sentence. His words tore at the wounds he had inflicted on me over the years. I had had enough of him, of hate, and of fear. It would all be the end of me someday.

Blinded by the disgust I felt toward him, I ran. I didn't know what else to do, it was an involuntary reaction. I ran away from all my problems, my feet pounding the polished floor. I skidded around a corner and blew through the door. Footsteps and angry cries fallowed me. They were fast but I was faster.

The last thing I heard before I was free from them was my name mixed with the devils. They had no explanation for what had happened so they blamed it on me in the devil's name. Their hate bore into me even as I ran down the empty streets.

The cold air outside burned my throat and lungs making me scream out in frustration and pain. The pain made me run harder not wanting to give in, to feel weak. The cold air brought me back to my senses that had been numbed by pain. I had never been so close to death before and it terrified me. The darkness was a screen across my vision preventing me to see where I was going. I tried to avoid any alleys but in the starless night I couldn't tell where I was much less what was an alley and what wasn't. I prayed my vision wouldn't come true, that I could make some decision that would change it. My mind pulled up images of creature of the night vampires and werewolves. Stories that had been told to me as I child took advantage of my vulnerability.

It all came down on me at once, in a cold, hard blow. The pain, hate, and fear broke me apart, as I had never felt before. I feel hard on the ground to tired to run anymore. The overwhelming wave of energy that had brought me hear fade instantly leaving me feeling hallow and helpless. I had fallen hard and blood now trickled down my sides. I could feel that something had been drive into my side, sending fireworks of torment through my head.

The world went white and I knew I must be dieing. I couldn't fight anymore; I couldn't bring myself to stay awake. If I could just keep my eyes opened I would live, but why would I want to? I was tired of living; the world was full of suffering. I had had my fair share of discomfort and I was ready for it all to end. I heaved one last time, then closed my eyes and waited for the burning flames of hell to wake me as darkness crushed me.

A terrible scream echoed around me. I opened my mouth again and another scream flooded the space around me. Everything was a blur. I strained to remember the details of the night before, but could only bring up a vague picture. Little memories flickered before my closed eye lids.

"She's awake," someone spoke coldly off to my left. The voice had brought me harshly back to the moment. The pain was quite evident. The first of it was the searing burn around my wrists. It felt as though someone had put a vice around them and was just pulling tighter and tighter. The circulation through my hands was being cut off. I couldn't feel my fingers. The same pain was in my ankles and around my stomach and again around my neck. I struggled to get away from it but I was bound down.

_A/N- Thank you so much to everyone who made it all the way through this chapter. Please review! I will update sooner if you do! Oh, I know this is kind of off topic, but I am getting a dog and I was wondering if anyone has any ideas of what to name him or her._

_Love,_

_Louise_


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